


I don't miss you (I miss you so much)

by achilleus



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Friendship, Love, M/M, Memories, Pining, Post-Break Up, Post-it Notes, Regret, Sadness, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-03-31 15:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleus/pseuds/achilleus
Summary: He simply sits there, watching Junhui pack and praying that he would hurry up – because he couldn’t bear watching his entire world unravel at the seams while his everything is still crying gently – but also hoping everything would slow down – so that he’d have more time to figure out how to make it all better (even though he knows he can’t).When Junhui finishes packing, he stands there with his back to Minghao. His fingers are trembling and all Minghao wants to do is to wrap him in a hug (but he doesn’t). Instead he watches in silence as Junhui slips out the door and out of his life with the ease of sand slipping between clumsy fingers.





	I don't miss you (I miss you so much)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!! This is actually the first SEVENTEEN fic that I ever wrote; I deleted it before (by accident because I'm apparently Very Bad™ with technology) so I'm just reposting it again. 
> 
> Also! This was initially supposed to be a two-parter fic but I was having a lot of trouble writing the second part and meeting the standard I had set out for myself. So, for now, I'm going to tick this fic off as complete. However, I may come back and add a second part later on if I get inspired enough to do so.
> 
> Anyway, without further ado...happy reading!! :)
> 
>  
> 
> (Initially posted July of 2017)

Junhui’s always been very good at holding things in; at putting on a strong front; at smiling even when he feels like crying and pushing out a laugh even though it was a sob resting on the tip of his tongue. In a lot of ways he is the foundation of their group of friends. The gentle presence always resting at the very edges so that the others would have a greater time to shine but always ready to rush in with a blanket, a soothing cup of tea, a small bit of advice, affectionate words, a small joke, and a bright smile.  
  
He’s always been sweeter, kinder, and lovelier than Minghao ever deserved – it’s not a thought that’s foreign to the young Chinese man and as he watches Junhui slowly packing his belongings into his bright yellow suitcase with red-rimmed eyes and raw, bitten lips, the thought rears its ugly head once more.  
  
Junhui’s always been good at putting on a strong front, so the fact that his sorrow is so evident on his face speaks wonders of the ways Minghao has utterly destroyed him. Even after four years of dating (but it’ll never reach five now, will it?) this is the first time the younger has ever seen the other cry. Usually, the most he would see is a withdrawn Junhui entering their bathroom with slightly heavier steps. The door would click shut and the tap would be turned on for about five minutes. Afterwards, the door would creak back open and Junhui would emerge with a gentle smile. The only evidence of his sorrows would be glassier eyes and ruddier cheeks. He would pull Minghao close and press slow and sturdy kisses on his lover’s temples, his eyelids, his hair, his cheeks, his chin and his neck, and Minghao would allow him to do so without protest.  
  
This time, Minghao had watched Junhui cry right in the middle of (their) his bedroom in stunned silence. Even through his surprise and horror he couldn’t help but catalogue the way Junhui clenches his eyes shut while crystalline tears bead on his lashes and drop to the floor, at the way he is most definitely not a beautiful crier, at the snot that clings to his sharp nose, and at the way his hands clench desperately around nothing. He’s a quiet crier, with only soft hitches in his breath indicating any kind of sorrow, and Minghao’s heart _hurts_ at the thought of just why and how Junhui had learned to cry so quietly.  
  
(Because he never wants anyone to ever worry about him.)  
  
He never deserved Junhui, Minghao always thought then, but he knew now. He was lucky to have ever been loved by Junhui at all. And it’s with those heavy thoughts that he simply sits on (their) his bed – the sheets still rumpled around him – and watches Junhui pack.  
  
If he was braver, he would wrap his arms around the older male’s waist and press ardent kisses to the tanned column of his neck. He would whisper apologies and genuine promises to act better, to do better, to be better, and he would repeat his love over and over again until Junhui believes him once more. If he was more humble, he would drop to his knees in front of Junhui and beg him to stay, would release the tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, would rip his heart out if he thought it would make a difference. He would do anything – _anything_ – if it meant the other would stop attempting to stuff half their home into his one lone suitcase. If he was kinder, Minghao would walk up to Junhui, would wipe away the wetness still clinging to his cheeks, would apologize for everything and thank him for all that he has given him, and would help him pack even if it killed him to do so.  
  
But Minghao was never brave where it mattered though, he possessed less humility than was probably healthy, and this entire situation has shown him that he was probably never that kind either, so he doesn’t do any of those things. Instead he simply sits there, watching Junhui pack and praying that he would hurry up – because he couldn’t bear watching his entire world unravel at the seams while his everything is still crying gently – but also hoping everything would slow down – so that he’d have more time to figure out how to make it all better (even though he knows he can’t).  
  
When Junhui finishes packing, he stands there with his back to Minghao. His fingers are trembling and all Minghao wants to do is to wrap him in a hug (but he doesn’t). Instead he watches in silence as Junhui slips out the door and out of his life with the ease of sand slipping between clumsy fingers.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
They met during university at Soonyoung’s birthday party. The music had been loud and Soonyoung and Jihoon’s apartment had been stuffed nearly full. The air was sticky and humid with a strong smell of sweat permeating everything from the various people grinding away in the middle of the living room, and cans of alcohol covered nearly every inch of the relatively small space.  
  
Minghao, who neither drank nor was a big partier, had stood at the edge of the room, feeling out of place and uncomfortable when someone leaned next to him on the wall. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye told Minghao that the lanky stranger beside him was quite handsome with a youthful features and kind eyes.  
  
“Hello,” the stranger had said with a soft, melodic voice that somehow managed to slice through the echoing loudness of the room.  
  
“Hi,” Minghao responded, suddenly feeling oddly self-conscious.  
  
“You’re not really feeling this party, are you?” The stranger continued, though his tone was sympathetic and understanding.  
  
Minghao shook his head and the stranger grinned before gesturing with a cock of his head towards the kitchen. Minghao followed him in and watched while the boy rifled through the cabinets (all while ignoring the beer cans littering the countertops) before emerging with two packets of hot chocolate.  
  
“What do you think of hot cocoa?”  
  
“It’s June and I’m hot.”  
  
He had frowned before placing the packets back into the cabinet and opening the fridge. After a few seconds, he popped up with two bottles of chocolate milk and a victorious grin.  
  
“Better,” Minghao said approvingly, and watched with a surprising amount of fondness as the stranger did a silent cheer and handed one of the bottles to him. They leaned over the counter across from each other and sipped at their cold milk as the pounding music continued from the living room; somehow, though, the loud beats were a lot more bearable than before.  
  
“Ah, I love chocolate milk. Did you know chocolate milk comes from chocolate cows?” The stranger piped up suddenly, and a boyish grin spread across his face at the snort Minghao released.  
  
“What do you mean chocolate cows? There’s no such things.”  
  
“Did I say chocolate cows? I meant brown cows.”  
  
“I’m not stupid,” Minghao rolled his eyes.  
  
“Well if your name’s not stupid, then what is it?”  
  
“Oh god,” Minghao whimpered with disgust. He was filled with a sudden regret of not being familiar enough with the boy across from him to throw a punch for the awful joke.  
  
“’Oh god’ doesn’t sound right either, but maybe your parents are funky like that.”  
  
“If I tell you my name, will you promise to never say ‘funky’ ever again? No wait, will you promise to never speak again?”  
  
“At all?”  
  
“At all,” Minghao confirmed with utter seriousness while fighting valiantly against the laughter threatening to bubble from his lips.  
  
“I’m sure your name is worth it, so fine. I accept your terms.” The boy said with equal seriousness despite the mirth Minghao could see swimming in his pretty eyes.  
  
“It’s Minghao.” Minghao couldn’t help but feel another wave of shyness wash over him and he looked down, tracing the patterns of the sticky countertop with his eyes.  
  
“It’s really nice to meet you Minghao. My name is Junhui.”  
  
At that moment, no name had ever sounded lovelier than _Junhui_ ; _Junhui_ belonged to a boy with pretty eyes and a gentle voice and a kind demeanor. _Junhui_ belonged to a boy who raided the fridge for chocolate milk for a stranger he had never met before because he could tell Minghao was uncomfortable. _Junhui_ belonged to a boy who talked about chocolate cows and made awful jokes belonging to that of an old uncle. At that moment, Minghao was sure that no name would ever sound better than _Junhui_ , but he didn’t say any of that.  
  
Instead he threw out a playful scowl and cried with fake viciousness: “You promised to shut up forever!”  
  
Junhui bent over the countertop as a loud peal of giggles escaped from his smiling lips, and Minghao had been lost since.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Junhui filters in and out of his life sporadically during the first month of their breakup. Having been dating for four years and living together for two and a half, many of their possessions have become completely entangled together. Junhui shows up at random times with empty cardboard boxes and leaves with more and more of his things until (their) Minghao’s apartment starts feeling less and less like home.  
  
The fourth (and last) time Junhui appears, he’s not holding cardboard boxes but rather a paper bag full of little knick-knacks.  
  
“I was going through some of the stuff I packed and I think you should have these,” he says with a tremulous smile. Minghao can’t bring himself to smile back so instead takes the bag with an imperceptible nod.  
  
“Do you want to come in?” Minghao asks, feeling off-kilter.  
  
“No, I’m good, but thanks.”  
  
They stand there in the awkward silence that can only exist between two people who were _once-in-love_ (but Minghao still _aches_ with love for the man standing across from him) before Junhui backs up slowly. His smile is still there, but it feels _wrong_ , and all Minghao wants to do is reach out and grab Junhui’s hand and make him happy again. But he hasn’t been making Junhui happy for a while now so he simply clutches harder at the straps of the bag.  
  
“I should go,” Junhui says with an uncomfortableness completely unbefitting of him. He pauses halfway down the hall before he says quietly: “Make sure to dress warmly; it’s going to cool down a lot next week and you get sick easily. Also take your vitamins, don’t forget okay? And your omega 3 pills too. Just…just take good care of yourself, Minghao.”  
  
“…you too.” Minghao can only whisper back and he watches Junhui disappear once more.  
  
  
  
  
He opens the paper bag after dinner and only once he’s cuddled up in (their) his huge bed. There are polaroid pictures of the two of them – Junhui is overly affectionate in all of them and Minghao is often photographed teasingly pushing the older male away even though there’s clearly love in his gaze (but oh, how Minghao wants to reach into the pictures, grip his past self by the arms, and say _Treat him better. He knows you, he knows you love him, but it doesn’t hurt to show him more. Press a kiss to his cheek more often, play with his hair, hold his hand. Love him while you can. Please, please love him while you still have him. Let him know he’s important to you. Please just make sure he knows that he means everything to you._ ) – and keychains, jewelry, pins and small figurines that Minghao had bought for Junhui over the years. All of them are clearly lovingly maintained, clean and glistening and Minghao can still picture Junhui sitting on their couch, using cotton balls and cleaning alcohol to rub away at the accumulated grime on his beloved items.  
  
Now they’re sitting on (their) Minghao’s bed, looking small and lonely without Junhui. The final item in the paper bag is Junhui’s key to (their) his apartment; a bright Gudetama charm is still dangling from it and it reminds Minghao of Junhui so much that he can barely breathe. He carefully puts all the items back into the paper bag and hangs it on a hook in their closet before lying down on the much-too-big bed.  
  
In the descending darkness of the room, Minghao cries and misses Junhui.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
The problem with dating within their circle of friends is that any breakups would cause some kind of tension within the group, even if the split was extremely amicable.  
  
Minghao hangs out with their group of friends four times before he notices.  
  
“Have you guys hung out with…with Junhui-hyung lately?” He asks over pizza, chicken wings, and fries, almost two months since Junhui left with his bright yellow suitcase trailing morosely behind him.  
  
Everyone shifts a bit uncomfortably, and Minghao stares down at their entire group of friends (with only Wonwoo and Junhui missing) as the previous happiness and comfortableness is chased away. Minghao feels a bit bad for ruining the atmosphere but the question has been bothering him since their last group hangout and he has to ask. Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua all share a quick look before the latter answers delicately.  
  
“We’ve hung out with him individually or in smaller groups, but not with all of us gathered together like this,” Joshua admits, and his eyes flicker between his half-eaten slice of pizza and Minghao’s imploring gaze.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“We’ve asked him, but Jun said he was fine and that we should take you out instead,” Seungcheol pipes up. Everyone has stopped eating at this point, watching the scene unfold like a terrible car crash with riveted gazes and rising apprehension. “I think he doesn’t want you to feel…alone right now.”  
  
Minghao feels bile rise up in his throat as his previous ravenous hunger vanishes. He blanches, pushing slightly away from the table. “Hyung!” Chan cries out in worry beside him as a wave of nausea passes by him.  
  
“No,” Minghao practically snarls, and an image of Junhui’s pretty eyes red-rimmed and glazed with tears flashes through his head. Anger suddenly surges through his veins at nothing and at everything and he’s just so _tired_ of missing Junhui and being so full of regret all the time. “No, you guys should have taken him out or at least taken turns or something. He’s…he’s so good at pretending to be fine all the time but he gets lonely really easily.” A picture of Junhui waiting in their apartment for Minghao to return home even as the sun sets and the moon slowly ascends into the sky reminds the Chinese man of every mistake he has ever made regarding his relationship and he has to bite down on his lip to prevent the sob clawing at his throat from escaping.  
  
“Why didn’t you guys insist or something?” Minghao practically yells, and it’s Joshua’s wide eyes that drains his anger as quickly as it came. Breathing deeply, Minghao pushes away from the table while gathering his things.  
  
“Minghao,” Jeonghan calls with a lot of concern and absolutely no admonition. The younger man shakes his head frantically.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says, unable to look anyone in the eyes as he leaves the restaurant. Shame colours his vision and he aggressively blinks back his tears.  
  
All he can picture is Junhui sitting alone in his room somewhere as Minghao is out with all their friends, and the older man is probably lonely and sad, but once again putting on a brave face. And all for Minghao. All so Minghao wouldn’t feel alone. Minghao has never felt smaller than he did in that moment, walking from the pizza parlour back to an apartment he once called home.  
  
The darkness that greets him when he cracks open the door can’t hide any of Minghao’s mistakes.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Seungcheol sends him a photo a week and a half later. Minghao’s eyes immediately stray to Junhui’s softly smiling face; the older Chinese man is wearing a light blue cardigan, and his carefully styled hair is a new shade of purple Minghao had never seen before. Junhui looks happy, if not a bit skinnier, and these changes bring a new wave of hurt to Minghao.  
  
It’s a strange feeling, not being the first to know and see the changes happening to Junhui.  
  
He’s surrounded by all their friends, though, and it looks as though Seokmin and Mingyu are about to forcibly stuff more food down Junhui’s throat. Gratefulness wells up in Minghao’s chest, and he hopes the others are doing a sufficient job at taking care of his hyung and of making him happy.  
  
Seungcheol’s caption says _He’s doing alright, don’t worry_ and Minghao breathes in deeply, praying that it’s true.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Minghao hasn’t seen Junhui for almost three months. His only connection to the other at this point was through their mutual friends. He’s kept updated on the other’s life through the little snippets of stories the others would share with him, and Minghao treasures all these little tales with a ferocious tenderness that surprises even him.  
  
(But he supposes it makes sense as this is the only way he’s still tethered to Junhui who’s constantly _too far_ and _too separated_ from Minghao. He will take what he can get and be grateful he still has any part of Junhui at all – even if they’re only in second-account stories and the fond memories of others.)  
  
The first time Seokmin accidentally slips up during lunch, everyone freezes. Hansol has a sandwich halfway to his mouth, Chan’s cheeks are still bulging from his bulgogi, and Seungkwan actually looks like he’s shocked into stillness mid-sneeze.  
  
“What did Junhui-hyung drop yesterday?” Minghao asks as nonchalantly as he can while scooping more fried rice into his mouth, and everyone relaxes marginally. Hansol brings his sandwich to his gaping mouth.  
  
“Oh, Wonwoo-hyung was just telling me how Jun-hyung dropped half his edited manuscripts into a pot of coffee,” Seokmin finishes cautiously. Minghao cracks a small but genuine smile at the image.  
  
“That sounds like him,” he says with quiet affection. Chan swallows his bulgogi while Seokmin laughs.  
  
“Wonwoo-hyung almost skinned him alive, he was so mad. _Why would you carry your completed stack of manuscripts into the breakroom anyway?_ And Jun-hyung actually said something like: _It was all part of my evil plan to bring down this dastardly corrupted editing corporation._ ” Seokmin’s face scrunches up fondly. “Ah, sometimes I can’t believe he’s real.”  
  
“Me neither,” Minghao responds. “He would probably deserve it if Wonwoo-hyung ever does skin him.”  
  
“No kidding,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Remember that time he accidentally set Jihoon-hyung’s hair on fire? I’m surprised he’s still alive, to be honest.”  
  
Minghao does remember: Jihoon’s hair had been smoking and the smell of burning hair had quickly filled the room. Seungcheol had run out of his kitchen with a pitcher of cold water and tossed the entire thing at Jihoon (despite the fire being only a tiny little flickering flame near the top of his head) as everyone stood in stupefied silence while Jihoon dripped cold water onto the living room carpet, looking exactly like a drowned cat. The silence had been broken by a series of hysterical, nervous giggles coming from Junhui who stood in one corner of the room. He had been clutching a curling iron in his hands while his facial expression wavered between amused and mortified. Jihoon had stared the Chinese boy down before sighing and trekking towards the bathroom to dry off. The laughter began by everyone soon after, and Minghao had to forcibly pry the still-warm iron from Junhui’s clingy fingers as the elder leaned against Minghao in stitches.  
  
“I guess you’ll never trust me to curl your hair, huh, HaoHao?” Junhui’s lips brushed against Minghao’s temple, and Minghao had rolled his eyes before smacking his boyfriend lightly on the cheek.  
  
“If I ever want to end up with a fireball for my hair, I’ll be sure to call you.”  
  
“Good,” Junhui had replied, before drawing Minghao in for a light kiss.  
  
“Ah, Jun-hyung cracks me up,” Seokmin says, and Minghao slowly blinks back to reality even as the memory of Junhui’s soft lips brushing against his temple and lips linger.  
  
“He’s something else,” Hansol says absentmindedly, finishing up his sandwich.  
  
Chan nods and Seungkwan finally manages to sneeze.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
**To: Junnie  
Sent: 10th June 10:43am  
  
_Happy birthday hyung. I hope it’s a good one._  
  
  
  
From: Junnie  
Sent: 10th June 6:52pm  
  
_Thank you Minghao_**  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
It’s nearing midnight when a knock sounds on his door. Minghao blearily makes his way to it after it becomes clear that the person wouldn’t leave until he does so. He’s sure his eyes are puffy from crying earlier that evening but he can’t bring himself to care.  
  
Mingyu is on the other side, and the taller man’s eyes soften the moment they land on Minghao’s no-doubt pitiful figure.  
  
“Oh Minghao,” Mingyu breathes before wrapping strong arms around the younger. Minghao allows this, even resting his weary forehead on the other’s shoulder, and a traitorous sniffle sounds. Mingyu shuffles the two of them into the living room after closing the door and they sit down on the couch, still tangled in one another.  
  
Together they watch the clock count slowly to midnight, and it’s only afterwards that Mingyu begins talking in a hushed voice.  
  
“We took Junnie-hyung out to dinner tonight. It was to this Chinese restaurant that Hansol staked out a little while ago and it was pretty good. He didn’t know we were going to take him out though; Wonwoo-hyung just dragged him there after work and he was pretty surprised. I almost thought he was gonna start crying but he didn’t. We made sure he ate a lot, so don’t worry. We all kept turns filling up his plate though Soonyoung-hyung just placed whatever he didn’t want to eat on Junnie-hyung’s plate. He thought he was so sneaky but everyone knew. We also ended up getting him two cakes because we couldn’t decide what flavour he would like best. Jeonghan-hyung and Jihoon-hyung got him a coffee cake and Seokmin and Seungkwan got him this chocolate blueberry one. I think he enjoyed the blueberry one more, to be honest, even though he said he liked both equally. Hmm, we also got him lots of presents. Wonwoo-hyung got him some new books, Seungcheol-hyung got him these fancy headphones that I’m not even sure Junnie-hyung knows how to properly use, Jeonghan-hyung and Joshua-hyung got him a bunch of new clothes, and I think Chan got him coupons to this spa place. I made him cookies and got him a little cactus. It sounds silly but he’s been saying lately how he wants to try growing plants, and cactuses are hard to kill so I thought it’d make a good starter plant. It’s a really tiny thing and he named it Bob even though I was just joking about that. I guess you can never really joke with him, huh?”  
  
Mingyu trails off after that, and Minghao _hurts_ and _hurts_.  
  
“Was he happy?” He asks after a little while, and Mingyu shuffles slightly beside him.  
  
“I think so, yeah,” Mingyu admits softly, and Minghao sniffles but the pain is more bearable now.  
  
“I just want him to be happy,” Minghao confesses in the murky darkness, and Mingyu’s arm tightens just a little bit around his shoulders.  
  
“I know.”  
  
“I’m…I’m glad he has you guys looking out for him.”  
  
“Minghao,” Mingyu says, and he sounds like he’s hurting too. He gently strokes the back of the Chinese man’s head with one large palm, and when Minghao breathes in it’s shuddery and half-broken. “You know we all care about the both of you. We just want the two of you to be happy.”  
  
Minghao hiccups and thinks about Junhui surrounded by their friends and stuffed full with Chinese food and two different kinds of cakes. He can almost perfectly picture Junhui’s gleefully grateful face as he’s opening his presents, and he can almost hear his giggles. As long as Junhui is happy, then Minghao can learn to be okay.  
  
“I’ll be fine,” he promises, and Mingyu just holds him.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Minghao’s fridge is covered in colourful little notes left behind by both Junhui and himself. A lot of them are reminders though a few of Junhui’s sweet and cheesy messages managed to make it their home there as well.  
  
_Remember to buy more toilet paper today!!!! xoxox_ one of the messages say, while another was a simple _I love you lots my HaoHao_  
  
On another one Junhui had written _You’re the best!!!! You can do anything!!!! I believe in you and I’m always here supporting you!!!! I love you so so soooo much xoxo_  
  
Minghao had been stressed about his last batch of exams before graduating, and had been moping around their apartment in some sort of stupor. He can still remember the way Junhui made sure to be as quiet as possible so that Minghao could study in peace, and the way he made Minghao’s favourite dumplings in an effort to cheer him up. For the week leading up to the exam, Junhui had left little post-it-notes all over their home for Minghao to find. All of them contained little supportive messages filled with Junhui’s typical shameless affection. Minghao remembered feeling unfairly annoyed at finding the little notes _everywhere_ (including under the toilet seat) but all he can feel is foolish and regretful now as he slowly sifts through the little colourful papers.  
  
_Remember I’m always here for you. You’re not alone!!!  
  
My HaoHao can accomplish anything he sets his mind to~  
  
Remember to eat your dinner!! Even someone as awesome as my HaoHao needs food to maintain his strength  
  
I know you’re stressed out, but please remember that your exams aren’t important enough for you to neglect your own health!!! HaoHao  > exams any day.  
  
I love you, good luck today (though you probably don’t need it). I’ll be here when you get back!!!!!  
  
I love you HaoHao. I just wanted to remind you_  
  
In between the little messages Junhui has left behind are a few notes Minghao has written too. Most of them contain messages like _I left your dinner in the fridge, please make sure to eat it_ or _I got called into work early so will see you tonight_. There’s quite a few of them, however, that have some variation of _Will be late tonight, don’t wait up_ written on them.  
  
Minghao ends up trashing all of his notes and carefully clipping Junhui’s together and stowing them with Junhui’s little trinkets.  
  
The fridge ends up looking a bit too empty, however, so Minghao sticks Junhui’s pastel pink _I hope you have a nice day today, my HaoHao_ note back on.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
It’s five and a half months into their breakup when Minghao talks to Junhui again.  
  
He’s shopping for groceries, dawdling at the frozen section in front of the selection of tofu when a soft but achingly familiar voice says “Hi, Minghao”. Minghao freezes and his heart begins hammering rapidly as – in quick succession – he forgets to breathe and remembers again after a momentary moment of blind panic. Inhaling deeply, Minghao steels himself before turning towards the voice.  
  
No amount of preparation, however, could have ever prepared Minghao enough for the sight of Junhui. The elder is wearing a black tee-shirt with a dark blue flannel on top, his purple hair looks a bit more faded than in the photo Seungcheol sent him months prior, and he’s sporting a hesitant yet genuine smile.  
  
He’s absolutely beautiful, and Minghao loves him so much.  
  
“Hey Junhui-hyung,” Minghao says, sounding subdued and forlorn even to his own ears. Junhui’s smile flickers briefly before he valiantly pastes it back on firmly.  
  
“How are you?” He asks, and if it were anyone else, Minghao would think that they were only asking because it was expected of them to do so. Junhui, though…Junhui has always cared too freely, and loved too much, and Minghao knows without a shadow of doubt that the older man is asking because he genuinely wants to know, because he genuinely cares, because – despite everything – Junhui still hopes Minghao is doing alright.  
  
Minghao loves him so much.  
  
“I’m doing good,” he responds and he swallows his affection. “Just doing a bit of shopping. My fridge has been looking a bit pathetic lately.”  
  
“Ah, I hope you’re eating properly,” Junhui says with a tinkling chuckle. “I know how you get when you’re immersed in your work.”  
  
“I’m eating properly, I promise,” Minghao says with a painted smile. “See? I’m buying lots of vegetables and I got some red sausages in here too.”  
  
“That’s really good to hear,” Junhui’s smile is starting to look a bit more genuine. “And how’s work? How was that project you were working on? You were so stressed about it.”  
  
The project Minghao used as an excuse to stay away from home, from Junhui. The very mention of it causes Minghao to blanch slightly and he gulps before looking down at his cart.  
  
“Fine. It’s fine.”  
  
“I’m glad. I knew you could do anything you put your heart into, Minghao,” Junhui’s smile is gentle and lovely and so-out-of-reach that Minghao wants to cry and say _But it wasn’t worth it, was it? Because you’re here but you’re not with me. I can’t reach out and hold your hand, or tell you I love you anymore. But I do, I do love you. I swear I do. I love you so much, Junhui. I don’t know how I lived these past five months without speaking to you or seeing you, but I don’t ever want to do it again._     
  
Instead he smiles and says, “You always knew more than I did, Junhui-hyung.”  
  
Junhui laughs again and the two of them stand there for a moment before the older male shifts the basket that was resting on the crook of his arm. “I should head back, I was only supposed to pick up a few items but as you can see, that didn’t really work out.” His basket is filled to the brim with apples and cookies and juices and chips and there’s something so inherently _Junhui_ about this that Minghao can’t help but half-tearfully laugh.  
  
(Once, Minghao had asked Junhui to please pick up some olive oil from the store on his way back, and the older male had arrived home with the oil, but also a pack of cola, some koala cookies, lychee jelly cups, green tea ice cream mochi, and sweet-and-salty popcorn. Minghao had rolled his eyes but accepted all the extra offerings with poise and dignity.)  
  
“I won’t hold you back,” Minghao replies more truthfully than he wanted to. “We should…we should hang out some time though. Maybe go for coffee. It…it would be nice to catch up with you again, hyung.”  
  
Junhui’s smile was soft and grateful, and he nods. “Text me, okay?”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“I hope to see you again soon, Minghao,” Junhui says before turning and leaving with a cute little wave. All Minghao can do is watch him walk away, and love him.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
“Your presence is requested at dinner tonight,” Jeonghan says the moment Minghao picks up. Before the younger can respond, the Korean man adds a bit more hesitantly: “Jun insisted.”  
  
“When and where?” Minghao asks.  
  
“The usual BBQ place at seven,” Jeonghan responds. There’s a moment of silence but Minghao can tell the other has something to say, so he waits patiently. Sure enough, Jeonghan questions carefully after a pause: “Are you guys okay now?”  
  
“We’re better,” Minghao says, and it’s only a half-lie. The two of them had been texting each other a bit more regularly though they had yet to meet up. And while Minghao is genuinely glad at their slowly mending relationship, the victory is a bittersweet one as he’s reminded everytime he wakes up fully covered in his blanket because no one was there to steal it from him, or when he’s still instinctively making two pots of coffee before remembering he’s by himself now, or every time his eyes linger on the sweet _I hope you have a nice day today, my HaoHao_ note taped onto the fridge.  
  
“Okay,” Jeonghan simple says. “Look, remember you can always come talk to me if you need to, okay? It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Alright, well then I expect to see you at seven o’clock sharp tonight.”  
  
“See you then, hyung.”  
  
  
  
  
Dinner starts off a bit awkward with everyone hyperaware of both Minghao and Junhui. As the minutes pass, however, it becomes clear that everyone is simply happy to be gathered together again, all thirteen of them, and the mood steadily picks up. Soon enough, everyone is joking around and laughing together, and Minghao can almost convince himself that everything is _normal_.  
  
The only thing breaking the illusion is the fact that Junhui isn’t sitting beside him, but rather he’s seated down the row from him with Wonwoo and Mingyu acting as human buffers between the two of them. At moments, Minghao is all too aware of the fact that Junhui’s hand is missing from his back, or his thigh, or that his arm isn’t wrapped around his shoulder. Their shoulders aren’t bumping together when Junhui lets out his usual peal of giggles, and their knees aren’t knocking painfully against each other because of the cramped space. When he turns to his side, Junhui’s pretty eyes aren’t greeting him and his laughing voice isn’t filling his ears.  
  
_This is fine though_ , Minghao thinks to himself as he watches Junhui accept a mouthful of lamb from Soonyoung’s chopsticks. Junhui’s cheeks are tinted pink from the heat of the room, and his eyes are curved upwards in a lovely smile. _This is enough_.  
  
  
  
  
“Good night, Minghao,” Junhui says later that evening when everyone is parting ways. “It was really nice seeing you.”  
  
Minghao is almost used to the misery that clings stubbornly to him nowadays, and the grin he gives Junhui is a real one. “Good night, hyung. Let’s do this again soon.”  
  
Junhui’s smile is soft and sweet and Minghao longs to lean in and feel such perfection against his own lips.  
  
(He’s getting very good at holding himself back.)  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
It’s seven and a half months into their breakup when Minghao sees Junhui standing across a busy street from him. The cars whizzing by and the pedestrians moving to and fro can’t prevent Minghao from spotting the other, not when the elder looks as beautiful as he does.  


His hair is now a familiar shade of black, and he’s wearing a white beanie and a grey peacoat in an attempt to combat the creeping autumn chill. His cheeks and nose are a ruddy colour from the wind and he’s bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as people move around him. Even in a crowd he stands out, and Minghao can stupidly never imagine moving on from him.  
  
He’s still debating crossing the street to greet him when a young man suddenly runs towards Junhui. The stranger has blonde hair and a wide boxy grin, and the way he envelops Junhui in a hug leaves Minghao feeling colder than the weather could have ever made him. He watches, frozen, as the other man leaves a soft kiss on Junhui’s cheek before grabbing his hand. They walk away, their linked hands swinging together happily and, even from a distance, Minghao can see the way Junhui tosses his head back in laughter.  
  
(“HaoHao, HaoHao,” Minghao can still hear Junhui’s teasing calls and recall his affectionate tone of voice. “Hold my hand!”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” was Minghao’s usual response, even as he thrusts out his hand for his boyfriend to hold. Junhui would smile, and look like the happiest person just for the simple fact of being able to hold Minghao’s hand.  
  
“My HaoHao,” Junhui would always say, and Minghao would roll his eyes in tender exasperation and allow Junhui to swing their arms once, twice, thrice, before yanking it to stop the motions. Junhui would chuckle good-naturedly, and simply squeeze Minghao’s hand softly.)  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
**To: Junnie  
Saved: 18th October 6:17pm  
  
_Are you happy, hyung? I really hope you are. I hope the guy you’re with makes you laugh a lot and smile a lot. I hope he kisses you all the time and I hope he lets you swing his arm around as much as you want. I hope he writes you lots of lovey messages and I hope he loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone in his life.  
  
I hope you’re happy hyung. I hope you wake up every day feeling light and free. I hope someone cares for you as much as you care for everyone else. I hope you never have to want for anything ever again. But selfishly, I also hope that when you think of me you won’t be upset. I hope you won’t remember all the shit I did and instead you will think of the happier times. I don’t want to be a mistake in your memory. I want to be someone you can still think of fondly.  
  
Junhui…I really love you. I really, really, really love you. I hope you somehow still know this. I don’t need you to love me back, I don’t expect you to. But you deserve all the love in the world, and I just want you to know that I love you. I made a lot of mistakes in our relationship, especially near the end, but you were never a mistake. You were the one thing I got right. You’re the only thing I got right.  
  
Junhui…can you promise me one thing though? Can you promise me that if you want to cry then you’ll cry? Cry as loud as you want to. You shouldn’t have to hold everything in. Sometimes it’s okay to not always be the strong one. Sometimes it’s okay to let someone else hold you up for a change. You don’t always have to be the one comforting others, please just let yourself be supported sometimes. I don’t think I can stand it if I have to imagine you somewhere crying alone in a bathroom. So when you need to cry, please let someone hold you and hug you. Let your boyfriend wipe away your tears, okay Junhui? It’ll be okay, I promise. He won’t think less of you for crying. So please, don’t hold anything in anymore. When you’re happy you make sure everyone’s happy with you, so when you’re hurting, please allow others to share your hurt with you. Just this one thing…please just allow me this one thing, hyung.  
  
_**

**_Junhui…  
  
Please be happy, Junhui.  
  
_ [Saved to Drafts] **  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic!! I'd also like to specifically thank everyone who had read this fic previously and left such lovely comments. I'm extremely sad to have lost all the lovely messages you guys previously left behind, but it is what it is sometimes!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated; I'll see you guys around next time!! :)


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